Inherited Wish
by Starlight Nova
Summary: In a world similar to earth, where humans go about their normal lives, working for money, caring for their children, and having fun if they are bored, this is where our story takes place. For many centuries, even millennium, there have been rare sightings of dragons living around the world in secret. If you are lucky, a dragon may give you his last dying wish.
1. Prologue: The loss of a son

**Back-story:**

In a world similar to earth, where humans go about their normal lives, working for money, caring for their children, and having fun if they are bored, this is where our story takes place. For many centuries, even millennium, there have been rare sightings of dragons living around the world in secret. Few humans can tell what they look like and fewer can say they saw one close up or had a dragon as a friend. For those who want to find out, dragons are trustworthy creatures, prideful and strong. They will not hesitate to defend their young if they see you as a threat, or help you if it is in their interest and own salvation.

Many go about their day oblivious to what is happening behind their backs, to the whispered growls, the muted arguments and the silent movements of their scaly neighbors. Some theorize that the dragons once roamed the earth in the thousands, trading and having fun with their siblings, cousins and primitive human friends. Trust won trust and strength showed the ability to lead on to the future…That is, until something happened.

It appeared the dragons were getting sick, dying faster than they could reproduce, and it seemed all hope was lost for the remaining dragons that hid away in solitude. The humans were baffled as to where their friends had gone, some searching far and wide, but few ever having found were they went off to. Every now and again, one dragon might appear, looking to be healthy, only to fly off again if the human seemed to be hostile or threaten them off.

Humanity had begun to forget what it was like when dragons roamed the planet, abundant in the thousands, playing every day while the parents hunted, protected, and flew among the clouds. Time forgot, what the mind let go. There comes a time, in a dragons life, were they are too old to fly, too old to breathe fire…too old to want to go on living. It is in this period, where their parents, grown hatchlings, cousins and friends gather around to wish him farewell, but not before he gives them something to remember him by.

A wish, one, last, dying wish which lets the dragon contribute to the clan or family pack as he passes on. The bonds of love and blood give him the strength to rise one last time and grant the oldest and wisest dragon a gift of luck and good life. It is said by humans that dragons can live forever, being immortal where only poison or a mortal wound can kill, but they would be wrong. Living forever serves no purpose except to build greed, lust and power over time. Even with dragons having long lives, spending many centuries or a millennium or two on earth, the soul has to move on at some time, to be free, to move where it wants, not constrained by a physical body.

Some say miracles last a life time, others say love prevails above all else…Me? I say, trust those near to you, provide care and love where and when it is needed, and protect those who you hold dear, for maybe one day, a dragon may grant you his last dying wish and have his legacy live on with you…

**Modern Day April 17, 2013: Tuscaloosa Alabama**

It is hard to say goodbye to the ones you love. It is even harder when you lose someone who is close to you. The heart is fragile and takes time to heal. Human emotion can only go so far to show the things we feel, less insanity take us. We do not plan on when we die, nor do we plan for what happens in our lives, only doing our best to live and move on. Living. Loving. Dying.

But we are sociable creatures, just like dragons, just like any other pack animal or living being who can feel sadness and sorrow. It is in times when we lose someone that we look back and measure whether our lives have been worth it, our time with friends, the last cookie, the sweet bite of cake, or the hug of the one closest to you. It is those moments we look upon to see if it is worth moving on, to stay with the ones you care for; grieve for the dead, but don't pity them; you have a better life, one worth living while you have it.

Sometimes it feels like I was drifting away, alone with no one else. This…disease I had could only kill, and there was no cure for it, and I was certain to die. My mother provided for me, looked after me and did everything she could to save me…but it was not enough. I never knew my father very well. He passed away when I was only four, and now I am twenty six. My friends did not come to see me, did not want to catch what I had. I could not blame them, when every second of every day was torture on my soul.

Any day now, I was going to die, either at home, or in the hospital. Doctors did not know what to do but to say rest, and recover. I had gradually lost my strength over a few years, my memories becoming hazy where I could not even remember if I had a dad or what he was like. Food tasted like nothing and I had to have an IV hooked up to me to keep me going…but for how much longer? I could feel it, destroying what I had become from the moment I was born. Of course, it was slow, hidden, and did not affect me nearly as much as is does right now as I lay on my bed, dying.

My mother always said I was different than most children, showing genuine interest in nature and insects, especially the things that flew. Birds, bees, eagles, I observed them all. I was curious, never causing mischief but inevitably following the ones who did, but my mother loved me all the same. My father, I never saw him much, if I can remember. From what I can, is that his smile was warm, and looked to be at peace even when he passed away, as if ready for it, welcoming the chance.

When I became seven, my mother told me the story of how she and my father met. One day in the Amazon he showed her all the wonders nature could bring. Around the world he took her, she said, to see many different places of beauty the earth held for those who looked for them. It did not take long for her to marry him, sharp face, strong frame, calm attitude. I can remember him holding me, whispering words I could not understand, nor could recall to this day. He was a mystery even to my mother, she said, but he loved and cared for her, just like she cares for me now.

Now, my time is wasting away. My body is frail, sapped of what energy and strength I used to have. At age fifteen, I remember my mother took me to see Niagara Falls, the Colorado River, wild forests and Yellow stone Valley. The memories remain with me even as I slowly fade. The scents, the sights, the sounds of nature captivates me, puts me at ease. When I started to become weak, frail, my mother took me to Alabama, a quiet place for my final days. My friends, of the ones I made, sent me get well cards to become well again. I should have known that would not happen when my mother explained why I was getting weak, why I had the disease I did.

When I was twenty two, doctors said to stay at home, limit outdoor activity and stress. Nature was taken away from me except for when my mother brought in insects, bugs and the occasional tree bark so I could smell it and remember happier days. She painted my room then; to make it look like every place we had traveled to, and even put my dad on it, which I did not know what his name was by then. I cherished the time we spent together, the troubles we faced, and the victories we achieved over a board game we shared to pass the time for me.

My mother told jokes, acquired by my father, to help ease the pain of knowing that my time was soon coming. They were funny, and even though I could not laugh because it was painful and sapped my strength, I nodded my head or smiled, letting her know how much it meant to me for her to care so much. Expressions can go deeper than just what we see, the eyes, the motion, and the small things that happen every day to say what we feel; the memory stays with us forever. The mind remembers, what time erased.

My bed…is comfy, my room…is quiet. The paintings on the walls sing to me, murmuring sad songs. My mother is crying, kneeling on the floor by the side of my bed. I do not blame her; I would cry if I was her and my son was dying from an incurable disease. She smells…like lavender wrapped in mint, a combination that puts a small smile to my tired face. My sheets…are clean, washed constantly to make sure I am as comfortable and happy as I can be.

It helps…somewhat, as my mind slowly fades, my eyes gradually closing, my heart slowly stopping. My mother, my loving mother cries for me, prays for me, wishes to protect me, but she can't. Her long, brown hair streaked with dark yellow coils around her, lying limp on my bedside with salty tears staining them. Her plain dress is wrinkled and wet from the water dripping from her face, her chest shaking in denial and grief.

My time…has come. I do not hold it back, except, I relish it like my father, my hands by my sides, my head indenting a permanent depression in my pillow, and my whole body…still, only for the beating of my heart and the blood in my veins. My breathing slows as my mother cries rivers of tears onto my bed, her arms spread out to bury her sorrow, muffling the sound so the world can't hear her.

Everything stops for me, my eyes close one final time, my heart pulses once more, before I utter one. Soft. Word.

"Goodbye"…_Mother…_


	2. Chapter 1: Confused and Disoriented

I can feel myself drifting away, my soul gradually leaving my body as it rises up. It is like nothing I have ever experienced before, the weightlessness as I float away, guided by some distant force that is calling me. I can still hear my mother's cries grow louder as she jerks up, eyes wide and filled with tears, her mouth twisted into a snarl, mutated by hate, racked with grief. She grabs onto my hand and holds it tight as it starts to grow cold and stiff. "Please! No! Don't take him! Please God! Don't take my son away from me! He is all I have left." She shouts, shaking her head frantically from side to side as her disheveled hair follows. "Please! I beg you. I pray, please! Don't let him go!" She falls apart, leaning over while crying hysterically onto my lifeless body with her back heaving as I phase through the roof and the world goes blank as her cries fade from my ears.

I have no idea where I am, whether I am in heaven or in hell. I know I did not mean to stick that bug up Pishkins nose in fourth grade. Why would I? I thought his name was hilarious at the time. Ok, I should have known better but we were outside, and I can't help myself when I see a bug. I just have to stick it someplace, whether it is in a box to observe or up someone's nose. He was fine because he snorted it out sometime later. I privately hoped it laid eggs so others could grow. Now another thought comes to mind, am I standing up, or lying down? I can't tell direction in this place and it is hard to know when your world is painted like a T.V. screen gone haywire. I try to move, but my body is held down like a concrete block in the middle of the river, no matter how hard I try, I can't budge an inch.

Memories begin to flash through my mind very quickly, the first time I opened my eyes, a unique sound I heard when in my mother's grasp. When I was three, of the time I spilled my food onto rough hewn clothes and a deep laugh startled me. When I was four and my mother taught me how to walk as well as potty training; I could see it took some time and frustration to achieve it. When I was six, after my birthday where I fell down and she kissed my booboo. When I was nine and it first became noticeable. As my life flashes before me, I remember what happened as if my mind went blank for a few seconds, that I had had an incurable disease and my mother had watched me die on my bed. Her son, her love and care for me had been substantial when I had perished like forgotten food.

My thoughts haunt me as I have nowhere to go, nobody to talk to, no places to be or things to see. Images of my friends skim by, a timeline of what I went through only returns the pain I felt when I was alive. The guilt that they could not visit me for fear of contracting what I had and the loneliness I felt every day as I grew weaker would not leave me be. The world around me is still blank, and I don't know if something is suppose to happen or if I am suppose to do something to get there. At least with my thoughts and memories I can past the time, even if there is no sense of time where I am. I still feel like I am floating somewhere, a destination that is taking longer than previously thought or if a prank is being played. I wonder if I am the only one feeling this at the moment, if other people who have died are waiting or watching those floating up to enter heaven, or hell.

After what seems like an eternity, electricity jolts through me, startling me into opening my eyes. My breathing or lack of breathing tells me I am definitely dead, and what happened might be a figment of my imagination. It strikes again and I try to move, but having vainlessly tried countless times earlier, I know it is not going to work now, but my body seems to not get the message. The tension builds up as it continues, nothing getting through with no sense of pain. Strike after strike is sent through me, and for what feels like the thousandth time, my body finally moves, but not in the way I thought it would. A faint tug of pain lances through my brain, eliciting a startled gasp or growl from me. They keep coming, racking my body more frequently as I float or stand aimlessly around in nowhere.

Sensations slowly return to my body, first smell, then touch and orientation of where I am. I can feel a gentle wind blowing against my body but it feels much larger than normal with extra appendages. The scent of dirt hits my nostrils and I can tell I am lying down somewhere in a field. My breathing comes back to me, low and steady as if coming out of a deep sleep. The world around me gradually disappears as the distant force that was calling me away now pulls me back in what feels like the direction of earth, of life. Even in this place, it has been too long since I have seen another person, felt their touch or known what it was like to be alive.

My body feels like it is stretching, contorting in ways extremely uncomfortable to me. Another strike of electricity and another flash of pain render me still as whatever is happening accelerates. I become dizzy, disoriented and feel like throwing up as my soul speeds backwards, forcefully shoved back down. I have no idea what is happening, lost for thought and reason when I arch my back as something pierces me. It feels like my blood is pouring out of my body, racing away as I return to whatever destination this thing has in store for me. After a few minutes I feel whatever object that had pierced me anchor itself to my soul and my mind and thoughts become coherent again.

I still do not know what is happening and try to scream out, having a sensation like my body is being twisted and pulled faster than it can keep up. I think of a black hole, how everything that goes in stretches while nothing comes out. Light cannot escape; nothing is safe from its grasp. Something clicks within my body and I suddenly have control. I flail my limps and I get the feeling that I have wings and a tail. That is the least of my concern as I turn around, facing wherever I am being pulled towards. It looks just like a vortex, a black hole, but now I come to the conclusion it is like a portal, time travelling back into the future.

Just when I see something on the horizon, my world, vision and mind begins to fade again. I cannot stop it from happening; the feeling is like passing out though it is much worse. A circular sphere colored blue green and white comes closer to me every second but at the same time I am vanishing, my mind and soul being shoved back into a body I do not recognize. I try to stay conscious but it is a losing war, I have no control of what I can do anymore and the pain within my mind flares open, causing agonizing torture on me as I fall. Everything feels like how it did when I was dying, but instead in reverse. My heart rate jumps as blood is pushed back into my veins and my mind is revitalized before I disappear with a poof.

**Modern Day June 12, 2017: Tuscaloosa Alabama**

Grass…I can definitely feel grass beneath me, though it is dimmed by a rough barrier between me and it. My breathing is slow and I can think as if I had never left earth, my lungs filling with air, expanding and contracting with ease while my heart pumps blood through my veins. The soothing scent of the wind and nature fills my nostrils as I try to wake up but a force still keeps me asleep. The next thing that comes to mind is extra weight, a lot of extra weight. I don't know if something happened while I was being pulled back down or if I am still floating around, waiting to go to heaven, or hell. I know that can't be it because I can hear the faint noise of cars and people talking in the distance.

I try to move, first my head and then my legs that are tucked against my body. I still feel like an immovable object is strapped onto me, preventing me from moving at all but allowing me to breathe. My mind is a little hazy but it gradually wears off. My body though, is sluggish, none responsive and very heavy from a few extra appendages. That thought keeps nagging me in the back of my mind, _what happened? Did something go wrong? What am I? _I can feel a new set of muscle along my neck, just behind my shoulders and stretching out behind me. It almost feels like I have a tail. I know that can't be right, it must just be my weariness from returning, a phantom feeling of exhaustion. The thought that troubles me the most is, _why did I return to earth, to the land of the living?_

I brush it off for now, more concerned with trying to open my eyes and standing up to see what is happening and what is on my body for myself so I can confirm my fears and suspicions. My efforts are futile as I slumber, mind awake and senses alert but not able to rise. I almost miss the quiet creek of a door before a high piercing scream filled with fear causes me to bare my teeth in an annoyed growl before my eyes automatically fly open and I raise my head up into the air supported by my neck. I breathe out heavily through my nostrils as if waking up from a nightmare, turning my head to the left to catch sight of a woman slamming the door behind her as she runs to pick up a phone.

My gaze is locked onto the house as I try to place where I have seen it before. The memory is fuzzy but I can't seem to grasp it right now. My heart beats steadily as I blink my eyes, readjusting to a new set of sights and smells. Colors seem brighter, more vivid as light colors are subdued while dark colors are highlighted. My sense of smell looks to be heightened as it seems I can practically taste food from a few miles away. _This can't possibly be my body? I feel stronger yet at the same time I do not know how to move at all. How I lifted my head sort of came to me but everything else is like learning how to ride a bike or walk for the first time._ My neck feels stretched out; elongated while my body feels packed with energy and untold potential.

A movement to my left makes me turn my head further to see what it is. On the ground, trailing a thick bulky body covered in scales is a long corded tail that occasionally flicks back and forth, sliding over the grass with ease. I can't seem to place it but I have a feeling in the back of my mind of something grating over grass. _I know I am not moving any part of my body; I should not be able to feel anything past the point of my feet or back, yet, why does it feel so nice?_ I stare at it in a daze, trying to think of why a tail would be behind me and covered in scales while connected to a reptilian body that disappears from my vision to my left. It takes some time but my eyes widen and my breathing increases as I come to a conclusion.

The scales start to rattle as I begin to shake, making my fear worsen of what could have happened to me. I concentrate for a few seconds to try and stop the tail and it responds by resting on the grass, limp. I pull my head back, turning it to the left more to see a scaly body with two large wings settled on its back colored a deep ash blue with spots of green trailing down the webbing. My heart races as I panic while frantically trying to stand up but my body does not want to respond. The tail slaps the ground in heavy thuds in which I can definitely feel the sensation of grass against it.

I whip my head around, baring my teeth and closing my eyes as I strain forward, trying to move, to try and do anything. _None of this feels right, this is not my body, this is not how I remember being on earth._ A breeze blows by me again and my new body finally decides to cooperate with me. I lift up my right arm and move it forward before setting it down again, claws digging into the ground while pushing up with my hind legs to try and stand up. My hips sway as my tail rasps over the ground while I bring my left arm forward, opening my eyes with full concentration to bring all four legs beneath me. It takes some time but I slowly, unsteadily stand up.

I open my maw, breathing heavily while my tail sits on the ground complacently and my wings lay on my back with no idea on how to use them. My legs are splayed out evenly as I raise my head and ease my breathing, looking around to observe my surroundings. _This sure looks like my town, my home. I wonder why I can't remember where I am exactly. Being dead for so long has left me scratching my head at what happened or what's going to happen. Whoever sent me back down better have a good reason for doing so, I do not want to go through the same thing I went through as a human. _

_As a human_…That thought makes me pause as I close my maw and breathe through my nostrils, taking it into consideration to confirm what I am. I bring my right leg forward, my left hind leg following as my eyes go wide while I start to fall, my maw open in a silent roar. My mind automatically sends signals to my tail as it tries to correct the motion by moving to the right as a counterbalance but it is too late. I hit the ground with a growl and a loud thud. My right arm is beneath my chest with my right hind leg in the same position. My wings are unscathed for now but my right wing lies uncomfortably beneath me as well. I am not hurt, more so bruised and surprised by the mishap. I close my eyes and wait a few seconds for the nausea to disappear while breathing calmly.

When it does I gradually open my eyes, looking out to see more houses spanning to the horizon in front of me with the sun halfway up the sky. I lift my head and lean to the left, my tail moving in the opposite direction to help balance myself. I bring my right hind leg up further against my body and roll, pushing up as my mind tells my tail to provide a counterbalance. Once I am standing, I try to turn around again; bringing my right leg forward while my left hind leg follows but this time I keep in mind to move my tail in the opposite direction to steady myself. I then move my right hind leg forward and my left foreleg at the same time, using my tail to balance my weight while turning.

I raise my head more, looking at my back as I move my right foreleg forward once more. I slow my breathing, staring at the body behind me. _My. Body. I do not want to accept that this is me, that I am a dragon. A mythical dragon. If I have to live again, I would rather choose to live as a human than a dragon. If anyone sees me as this than…Shoot, someone already did. _I give a small growl of annoyance at that thought, snorting when I think of what could happen._ I just hope they don't do anything about it. But now that I am a dragon, I should at least see what I look like; no doubt I will have to live alone somewhere in the mountains, avoiding human contact. _

As I move my head back and forth, taking in the sights of what I am, a distant set of sirens erupt in the city, screaming to the location I am at. I am oblivious to this as I check out my body. My tail swishes idly from side to side, skimming the grass, the feeling oddly pleasant in the setting I am in. I look at my wings again, lying snug on my back. The rest of my body follows the general coloration of my wings, a deep blue beginning at the tip of my tail, headed with a few sharp curved spikes for a club. It travels up my back, down my hind legs and between my haunches where it turns into ash blue and then a faint green where it mixes together. My flanks are a perfect combination of lighter blue and deep sea green coupled with strong scales to protect me. Beyond my wings up to my neck it changes between royal blue and forest green.

While I observe myself, flicking my tail occasionally to see how much dexterity it has, walking in a circle to try and see the horns on my head and the spikes trailing up my back, the sirens come closer. A pair of ears on the back of my head swivel instinctively to catch the sound, causing me to pause in my ruminations on myself to lift my head curiously to the sky. I sniff a few times, scenting nothing but dirt, burgers, pizza and trash as well as a bunch of other things. My irises narrow as I tense up, my whole body going rigid as I stare past the house I am behind, hoping that the police are not coming to where I am.

I do not move for minutes, my breathing shallow and my reaction down to a hairpin trigger. They move away and I finally relax, my irises going back to normal while lowering my head and ears as they brush up against my horns. I pause, tilting my head to look back while trying to move my ears again. They twitch, touching my horns so I know that I do have them before I let them fall onto the side of my head. I go back to inspecting myself, turning around some more so that I am facing the small forest behind the house with my back to it. I raise my right foreleg, marveling at the small scales running down my leg that lead to my claws. I wiggle my fingers, or paws I should say, watching in fascination as the muscle moves, bulging and contracting with each signaling I send to my paw.

I place it down and watch the individual claws spreading out to support my weight, picking up my left foreleg to do the same. I lean forward, making sure to balance my weight with my tail before sniffing my paw and licking it once, the texture rough and abrasive. I smell nothing on me but just from that whiff I could scent many different smells or more like tastes to me as I can practically feel them on my tongue. I clench my paw, watching my bicep expand and contract, relaxing when I unclench it. My claws do not pierce my scales as I am careful on not making a full fist. I then bring it to my chest, moving it down in a raking motion but my claws just glide across my scales. From what I remember from reading books on dragons, their chest scales are the most heavily armored part of their body followed by their legs and flanks.

I soon become immersed in looking at every little detail on myself, the pattern of my scales, and the color on my body. I even stick out my tongue which does not split like a snake's, lapping at my snout but close it too soon, causing me to slink to my stomach to hold my muzzle as the pain died. That does not deter me from continuing exploring what I have become. I have five paws on my forelegs and five paws on my hind legs, each able to move to a certain degree with my big toe regressed up my heel and my fore-thumb not as useful as before. I turn around to look at my wings and the claws on a fifth opposable thumb, wondering why I could not move them still. They sure look like they can hold my weight as my tail would act like a rudder to guide me through the air gracefully. My gaze, however, is snapped away from my wings as I see the door open to the house and two men emerge with guns.

Four years. It had been four years since my son had died in his bed, and I could do nothing to stop it. I gave him all the love I had, all the support he could have wanted as I watched him grow weak as the months past. His fascination for bugs and wildlife was unending, and so I brought it to him. Bugs, caterpillars, ants, even tree bark, I decorated his room with it. Seeing him smile brightened my day, but how long would it last? I grew fearful when we visited the hospital, what mother wouldn't be when your child came down with an incurable disease?

I prayed for him every day, telling him jokes, watching movies together, or just talking for the hell of it. I know it pained him to speak by the time he was confined to his bed, but I did not give up hope. I did all I could for him, but sometimes I just had to cry. Is it too much of a burden to do this all alone? My husband, his father had passed away when he was four, thinking about that just makes it harder to deal with.

The neighbors felt sympathetic for me as I grieved for the loss of my son. The town all grew up to know him as the adventurous kid, even the police for his fiascos that the trouble makers often led him to. I never stopped loving him. Every day, every night I prayed, I could see it on his face he did not want me to worry, but I could not help it. Those last few days were just as hard on me as it was on him.

He had stopped eating a couple days ago, only kept going with the IV's, so I knew his time was coming close, yet, I did not want to accept it. He looked so helpless, so fragile that one touch from me would cause him crumbling into dust. When he whispered to me, saying farewell, I could not take it anymore. I pleaded, shouted to god to save him, to not take him away. Every day after that was spent alone, in a house, with no kids, no husband, and no friends. Eventually I was roused from my depression enough to take on what should have been a normal life by a friend of my husbands. Without her, I would have perished as well, but I would have gotten to see my son at least.

Even after this long, I think about him, wondering what could have been different, if there 'was' anything that could have been done to save him. But that is in the past, what I need to do right now is live on, though I do not know why I do so. As the day crept by slowly, I had started to harbor a feeling that I was supposed to go to the backyard. I did not know why I needed to do that, but it soon got to the point where I was jittery and could not sit still.

So at around nine O'clock I went to the back door and opened it, but what I found astonished me. Fear gripped my soul as I screamed, racing back inside to grab the telephone to call the police. Wait…What could the police do? Against a…a dragon? I dialed anyway, hoping they would feel compassion or something to come and see what was bothering me.

They did not believe me, not at first. They laughed when I said I had a dragon outside my house in my backyard. Then I started crying and Marvin, a police officer who had dealt with my son on numerous occasions came on the phone. He told me to calm down and tell him exactly what I saw, so I told him in every bit of detail I could from the brief glimpse I had. A large dragon, big wings, a tail, horns, ears, and the majority of his body was a deep blue/green color with variations.

Marvin said he would come over with two other officers to see if the dragon I described was in my backyard. I did not know if he did it out of empathy for my son, or if he wanted to see if there 'was' a dragon in my backyard. Well, his colleagues sure found out as they went outside to investigate while he talked to me more over the issue. I would say he was startled when his companion told him it was real, and it was looking their way.

I freeze, body going completely rigid as my irises narrow again so I can catch every little detail around me. My tail stills without me even thinking about it, my fear rising as they also stop upon seeing me, one of them shouting inside the house to someone else but quickly reasserts their sights on me. They raise their guns, two desert eagles aimed at me in various positions on my body. I can tell they do not know what to do, having never seen a live dragon before. The standoff drags out as I can hear two faint voices within the house, one male, the other female. She does not seem to be in trouble, only telling the officer what happened; even I don't know what I am doing here or why.

Even at this distance, I seem to be bigger than the police officers pointing their guns at me. If I were to guess, they would only reach up to just above my shoulders, but I can't seriously think about that now when they could kill me with a well placed shot. Should they hit, then it would still be painful as I have no doubt my scales would protect me but the force of the bullet would bruise the skin underneath, leaving me sore for a few days. My mind becomes blank as I lose all conscious thought, primitive instincts coming forth in a fight or flight response. My already heightened senses seem to zone in on the two officers and a proposed one still in the house. I smell nothing other than who stands before me, hearing nothing else other than their fear tinted breathing and the sweat rolling down their skin.

A woman suddenly emerges from the doorway, startling the two officers, one never taking his eyes off me but his breathing increases with a twitch of his head as the other turns to usher her back into the house. She clings to the frame, hair disheveled and eyes filled with tears as she looks at me, no, stares at me. I move my right foreleg forward to get into a comfortable position so I can lung or escape at a moment's notice. The officer that still has his eyes on me jumps; shouting to his comrade as he points the gun near my right paw and fires. The bullet just misses me, scattering the dirt and grass as I flinch at the sound, a deep growl emanating from within my chest while I bare my teeth and pull my paw back.

The woman shivers as the echo of the gun vanishes, continuing to watch as the second officer calls for the third one in the house for support. I turn my head from the hole in the ground to the three men standing at the door frame. Two of them are in front on the step down with pistols in their hands while the third one has a large caliber rifle in his hands that can most likely pierce my scales in certain places. I lower my head, moving forward while turning myself around as I growl to face them, all my focus on the three officers in front of me. They raise their weapons in readiness, prepared to fire if I come any closer. The woman behind them just looks at me, tears accumulating on her face as she whispers one word.

"D-Damien?" I stop as she speaks, growl fading while the second officer with the pistol looks back at her and says something. I pay no attention as that name sparks a memory within my mind which gradually expands. I relax my muzzle as my eyes widen, remembering a flicker of something, of someone who was next to me as I died. I still can't quite remember why this house looks so familiar, but a picture of a woman starts to come into focus the more I concentrate.

I am too stunned to move, my tail flicking back and forth low to the ground while I breathe slowly. The officers seem to be thankful I do not attack, but still do not lower their guard against me. I open my maw, trying to speak, to communicate back but the officers take that as an aggressive movement and start to shout at me, urging the woman back inside. Before she disappears, I struggle to say a response.

_Mother…? _Except, what comes out of my maw is not words but a series of barks and growls. The officers react with no hesitation as the ones with the pistols fire directly at me, jerking me out of my day dream. Those instincts that had receded at the sound of the name come back quicker. I pad backwards in a roar, hind leg muscles bunching up while cringing as two bullets ricochet off my chest scales, one near my right shoulder and the other just below the swell of my chest to bury itself into the ground near my left foreleg while I turn to my right to flee like a wolf in fright.

The pain surprises me but it is ignored as adrenaline soon spears through my body, dampening the sounds of the surrounding world as I turn to escape, twisting my body on my hind legs to face away from the house. My wings spread out as I prepare for flight without my knowledge. More shots come and hit me, some missing but mere inches while others just scrape against my scales. I suppress a growl as I can feel them bounce off, a few of them lodging themselves in my hind legs just below the skin where my scales are thin and not as strong. No sooner had I reversed direction than I began to gallop, spreading my wings out to their full extent while flapping them. I ignore the pain; I ignore everything else as my instincts tell me to run, controlling my wings for me as the wind gathers under my sails.

I do not look back as the officer's pause to reload, the third one taking his time to aim at me as I lift off the ground. I stare straight ahead, holding my legs close to my body as I stumble a bit before rising further into the air. My breathing increases as I try to fly away, to find a place away from humanity where I can live in peace without being bothered, all because I got changed into a dragon to live another life on earth. _Why me? Why do I get to live again as a monster? As something humans fear and will extinguish at any chance they get?_

My wings work frantically without my knowledge, pumping the air out from underneath me to gain altitude and speed while gradually distancing myself from the house and the three officers. Alas, it was not meant to be, for as I look back, rising over the trees to see how far I am away, the third officer fires his gun while the other two watch. One bullet scraps just above my head, nicking below my left horn as I growl and turn away to focus on flying. He does not stop, firing again and again as more bullets wiz past me, some tearing shallow wounds in my hind legs and flanks while others create holes in my wings.

I roar out in pain, feral instincts taking full control, leaving me behind for the ride as it pumps my wings faster to get more distance between us. The officer with the rifle fires again and this time hits me directly. The bullet goes beneath my tail and underbelly to wedge itself inside the back of my right bicep near the bone at the time of an upstroke where my right foreleg was lowered from my body. I roar out loudly in pain, faltering in the air, consequently dropping some altitude before spreading my wings to glide with half a dozen holes in them and blood seeping out of numerous wounds. I close my eyes and clench my teeth, fighting past the pain to keep on flying away from the city.

At least I hear no more sounds of gunshots, but by now a good majority of the neighborhood should be out looking around confused. Not wanting to get spotted, I tilt straight up, heading towards the clouds so I appear as only a bird or small plane. A steady stream of blood exits the large gash on my right forelegs bicep, tumbling down to the ground below as I rise higher in the air. I open my maw to breathe heavily, still not in control of my body, but nevertheless urging myself on to escape, to hide, to get away as fast as I can while the holes in my wings force me to move my wings faster to gain enough lift.

When I fly into a cloud I level off, dropping down to skim the bottom of the surface as I spread my wings out in a glide. I get control of my body again as the instincts retreat, beaten back by the intensity of the pain coursing through my body. Every down stroke covers my mind in pain, causing me to growl whether I want to or not. I can feel my blood seeping out of the wound, dribbling down my leg to arrive at my claws before falling away. No matter what I do, the bullet that is lodged next to the bone moves around, jarred by my erratic flying. I do not know where I am going; instead I pick a direction and fly for as far and as long as I can. I do not think of how to fly, only let it happen, trusting instinct to get me far away from civilizations.

It never goes away; it never stops, always causing agony as I fly over a large city. Day had turned into afternoon by now, the sun starting its decent towards the horizon. I continue on, never stopping for fear of getting injured further, my mind desperately trying to block out the pain caused by the bullet. _Is this how I am supposed to die again? So soon after getting turned into a dragon for someone's entertainment? No. I will not have it. Even if I have earned my right to die and go to heaven, I will not let this kill me. I will not go down like this. If I have to pull it out of me somehow, I will live as a dragon for however long I can._

Exhaustion tears at me, thirst shouts my name and hunger gnaws at my stomach as I fly into the night, not stopping for any ounce of rest. My right foreleg throbs in agony to the beat of my heart, never letting go. I had lowered it some time ago from holding it against my chest to minimize the pain, but all it seems to do is remind me of the disease I had. Every second, every minute, every hour I continue to fly, the pain feels just like when I had the disease when I was a human. It feels different, but the effects are still the same; it drudges up hazy memories, long forgotten from my time floating around doing nothing.

Friends…Fun…Nature… Being a dragon sure reminds me of my infatuation for bugs and creepy crawlies. My breathing is heavily labored as my lungs try to retain enough air to keep me going, opening my maw to aid in the process. My eyelids droop as I grow tired while my wings start to falter and fold against my back under the strain. I do not look around to take in the sights, the sounds and smells of the world around me, instead looking straight forward in a single goal to escape. I can see a large forest in the distance beyond a meandering lake in front of me. The sight reinvigorates my body as I open my eyes and unconsciously flap my wings to gain some altitude.

So far no one has spotted me, even if I have flown lower as the sun has set upon the day. My whole body burns, yearning to land and curl up to sleep. Well, that part may be a bit of a hassle because of my injured foreleg, but I will think of that when I come to it. For now, I just have to focus, to concentrate on flying straight and not dropping out of the sky from exhaustion. The bullet wound has stopped bleeding at least, the blood clotting around the entrance to where it entered. My right foreleg feels numb, only my will to continue lets me ignore the pain for the most part. It has dulled down, but is in no means gone, always in the back of my mind. If I move to quickly or fall suddenly, I get reminded by a flare of pain, making me growl in disdain as the wound cracks open.

I push myself harder, midnight having passed whenever as I have no sense of time. My wings are killing me as I fly over a large forest, froth beginning to form at the corners of my maw from pure exhaustion. I cannot see where the tree line begins even with my enhanced draconic sight. I have to rely on my hearing and smell to guide me to a place to land, if only I can find someplace devoid of trees. It seems like another few hours pass before I see a glint in the ground shining against the moonlight for what must be water. With the cloud filled sky, I am surprised by my discovery and stop pumping my wings to glide for the rest.

I think I may have overshot that lake when I zoned out awhile ago. Having flown for one straight day is not good for me at all, considering I have had nothing to drink, I am starving and I have never flown as a dragon before. I do not know how it works or how to control my wings even now; I just let my instincts control that part of my body as I dip down to land on the ground somewhere. Every muscle in my body is screaming at me for rest even when I find a small clearing to land in. I know it can't end well because of my leg injury but at least I can try. No doubt it is going to cause me a whole world of pain but I have endured an incurable disease as a human, I am sure I can survive a brutal shock when I land.

The ground is coming up quick as I lean backwards, grunting as the bullet moves inside my leg again. I pray that I will be able to land this half decently and not have the bullet gouge out my flesh on impact. _The last thing I want is to die a slow death as a dragon, not that I haven't done that already._ I narrow my eyes in preparation, splaying out my hind legs while ignoring the stabs of pain from the inconsequential wounds and gashes along my flanks and hind legs. I lift my chest up, flaring my wings to bleed off speed to land nice and softly on the ground. The holes in my wings only complicate my problem as I come in a little too fast for my liking, the wind howling past them threatening to tear the wounds wider.

Everything goes perfectly until I lower my right foreleg to touch the ground. Once my hind legs are planted on the ground, my left hind leg behind my right, I keep my wings spread while dropping onto my front forelegs in a trot. A distinct crack of bone is heard and felt when I land too heavily on my right foreleg. I roar out in pain into the night, wings giving out as I tilt my body to land on my left side. The gash the bullet made reopens, causing fresh blood to spill free onto the fresh forest grass, staining it red.

I fall onto the ground with a loud thud while gouging out a path in the ground for a few feet, left wing trapped beneath me as I bring my hind legs up as well as my tail to try and curl up. The pain assaults my mind endlessly, leaving a stream of tears falling onto my muzzle as I close my eyes, whimpering and shaking in fear. The blood from the bullet wound pools onto my wing, gushing out more each time my heart beats. It feels like a prick to the finger when at the doctor's office, but this is much much worse. I bare my teeth, growling and hiccupping, crying myself to sleep while my right foreleg lies limp beside me. My whole body is sore and aching, glad for the break in flying. My mind is in shambles as my other various wounds slowly leak blood, spilling my life onto the ground.

I lay on the ground, waiting to either die or for someone to come and find me, to call the police or military so they can finish me off. My world fades as the pain becomes too much and I fall unconscious somewhere in a large forest with wildlife that could easily finish me off in my weakened state. My breathing eventually stabilizes with my maw open partially and my wounds stop bleeding again, leaving me to drift aimlessly around in my own mind, waiting for something to happen. _Am I to die alone this time? A beast? A monster? _


	3. Chapter 2: To Know where to go

**Earlier in the Day:**

After the sighting of the dragon, Marvin called for backup while the two officers that were with him set up a parameter. The neighborhood citizens of Taylorville were out to try and find what the shooting had been about. No one was allowed in the backyard while the woman in the house that had called the police was inside, crying. It took no time at all for the FBI and investigation teams to arrive at the scene. The woman was left alone for now while they got to work, cording off the area and surveying the backyard where the dragon had been.

The three officers who were there were questioned, each saying the same thing, the woman of the house had called saying there was a dragon in her backyard. None of them believed her until Marvin came on to talk to her and tell her he would come. The two officers he had brought to investigate where shaken but were able to talk coherently. The science department that had arrived took samples of the blood and scales dropped by the dragon that was said to have been here. Measurements were taken of the ruts it left in the ground, to which the two officers said it was taller than they were at an estimated thirteen feet.

Government officials came to the scene next and the general public was ushered back into their homes quickly and silently with only one person shouting that dragons were real and they will come back to kill us all. He was taken care of soon after. Special guards were posted outside and around the house to ensure that the dragon did not return, and if it did, they had orders to shoot on sight. When the woman who had initially called the police heard this, she threw herself at one of the soldiers, begging him not to kill the dragon, mumbling that it was her son that had died four years prior. Of course, they did not believe her any more so than the police did when she first called. She was then sent inside her home to calm down with Marvin assigned as a personal bodyguard as well as to talk some sense into her.

How could they do this? How could the government order them to shoot the dragon if it came back? She knew who it was; at least, she hoped it was who she thought it was. Her mind was addled with all the chaos going on and the sighting of the dragon that looked vaguely familiar to her late son. It was not his form; she knew that, but the look in his eyes even when he was growling menacingly at the officers as they were ready to shoot him. Could he not remember them? Could he not remember who she was? She did not know what to think at the moment, it was too much to handle.

Half her heart was telling her that he was still dead, had been for four years and there was no way for him to come back. The other half told her it was her husband's wish, that he is now a dragon, 'the', dragon that had appeared in her back yard. She did not hear him arrive or knew when he did, only that the feeling she had had been telling her to go to the back yard, and she was glad she did. But some part of her did not want to believe it, not until she got to see him up close and personal. It was too brief, too fleeting to believe that that…dragon was or is her son.

It was like the world was playing tricks on her mind, showing her one thing but reality gave her something else. The look in his eyes when I spoke his name, it was like he knew who I was but just could not remember. When he opened his maw to try and speak, was he saying my name? I had no way to find out as they started shooting before I could go to him. There was no chance in finding him, the police, FBI and government will be searching the entire city, continent and globe if they need to to find the dragon. It…he was wounded, very much wounded and she knew he would not be able to get far, not without rest as well as food and water, all without being seen by another human.

Why did this have to happen now? Four years from when her son died on his bed with her beside it, not able to do a thing to help him. Was there something that she was supposed to know, something that her husband did not tell her that went into the wish? But for all she could dream, she would never know. Even if he had died of old age, content and happy, she could not let it go, could not let him go just as she could not let her son out of her grasp. It had been over two decades since he had passed away, two decades in which it took her to accept his death because she had his son to care for, to nourish. But now that he is gone as well, she did not have anyone to look to. Yes she had friends and neighbors, but none of them could heal the hole in her heart that was left by someone of your blood.

If only he had told her what he had found, of who he had saved, maybe all…this could have been avoided. She knew he was stubborn from when she met him but gorgeous and charming at the same time. He had a certain recklessness not unlike other people that complimented him well with his sharp features and robust and athletic physic. He was reserved and careful when he showed her the wonders of the jungle, the breath taking sights of the canyon and the beauty of wildlife. Her son had definitely inherited those traits from him, and she loved both of them fiercely, yet, was it because of what they held that they were taken away from her?

She was old; she knew it, but still young and bright in mind and heart. This…incident was not going to be the end of her; it was not going to be the cause of her insanity. But the idea or sight of seeing her son, for what she could possibly believe who the dragon is; be shot down by the police, by the friends, by the people who he had known his entire life, if he returned…that was definitely going to be when she had enough. She clenched her fists on the table until they turned white, letting the tears flow freely down her wrinkly yet vibrant face until they were soaked up by her gown. "What do I do?" She whispered to herself, sobbing as her tears continued to flow down her face while she closed her eyes and laid her head on the table with her creamy hair spread in a half moon.

Marvin stirred from his own complicated line of thoughts of looking down at his gun on the countertop as he turned to the woman he was assigned to protect, a ludicrous order at that. The dragon they had seen would not be coming back if he knew what was good for him. It was only a matter of time before he was caught and killed, yet the thought of doing that made him vomit for some reason. Was it because the dragon had not outright attacked them? Or was it because of the name the woman had said, the name of her diseased son. Just like her, his mind was doing summersaults trying to figure out just what to do, if it was right or wrong.

He did not know if it was possible that the dragon they had seen could be her son as much as if pigs could fly. He had intentionally missed killing the beast when he opened fire, and the roars were genuinely painful to hear. It would have been easy to aim for the wings to have it crash back down. If it did not die on impact then they would have finished it off and all this chaotic business involving the government and special science teams could be over with much quicker if he had done that…but he had not.

Her son, even when he got into trouble that could easily be taken care of, was a bright child, full of curiosity and questions. He was just like his father before he passed away. Everyone could tell he would do great things one day, maybe follow in his father's footsteps or be in one of the many career fields involving nature. When he stuck that bug up Pishkins nose in fourth grade, even he admitted it was funny…on the inside. Adolescent curiosity at its finest never ceased to amaze him. He could have never seen what happened when he turned nine though; it was a mother's worst nightmare.

"I am sure they will want to examine the dragon before they do anything with its carcass, depending on if it's found dead or al-" Marvin started, speaking in a Northern accent with a hint of Canadian.

"Don't talk like he is dead!" The woman spat, jerking up with her long curly hair bouncing on her shoulders to glare menacingly up at the officer. "I lost him once! I will not lose him again!" She yelled, which then turned into a short bout of coughing.

You know when you trespass on an elder person's lawn and they yell 'get off my lawn varmints!', and you and some friends run away laughing? I cared for her like she cared for her son, but when she got angry; you did not want to be in the line of fire. I turn around so my back was to the counter and held out my rough hands. "I did not mean…" But she interrupts me again, slamming her right arm onto the table with her hand in a tight fist.

"You know what you meant when you started talking!" She shouted, choking on her tears as she tried to hold them down. I lean my head back a fraction at the volume, gripping the countertop tightly with my own hands. "I know what I saw in his eyes! He reminds me of my son! I just have to lo-"

"Your son has been dead for awhile now." I regain my composure from her outburst, crossing his arms in front of his chest while she stared at him with her mouth open. "I know you miss him but I know for one thing that that dragon is not him." I say calmly in my police attire, black hair cut short with some of it hanging over my forehead like a baseball cap.

"And if you're mistaken then it will be your fault that I lose him again!" She shouted in return, her body shaking from the rage directed at me. I could see she did not want to believe herself at the same time, but why was that?

I close my eyes to think for awhile and to let her calm down. It was never a good thing to argue when your anger takes a hold of your feelings. I could hear her pound her fist on the table a couple times, not as hard but still frustrated. The longer I waited, the softer it got until she tilted her head and began to cry again, her tears landing onto her faded green gown. "I'm sor-"

"No," I interrupt her, making her raise her head in surprise to see me staring at her with a sympathetic gaze. "I know you loved your son," I say, letting my hands fall to my sides as I walked over to her, watching her follow me for every step I took. "I would do anything to protect him myself when he got in trouble," I say, laying my right hand delicately on her shoulder. "But now he is gone."

"You don't know."

"But I will do what I can," I interrupt again, looking her straight in the eyes while squeezing her shoulder in sympathy. "I cannot say I believe that your son is a dragon and he is alive, but I will do what I can, so you can see him and find out for sure." I explain, smiling as her shoulders start to shake in happiness.

"Thank you…Thank you." She says to me still sobbing, leaning forward while standing up to hug me.

I bring my hands around her back to return the embrace, knowing I will be risking my job to do this. I don't know how I will even begin to find out where he went, but because he means so much to her, I will do it. "I will still have to obey orders though from my superiors." I say, deflating her hope that I would not shoot him if he came back.

"But you said?" The woman starts, pulling back from me.

"I know, but I have to keep up the act that I am still an officer and will do what I am told. I may be higher than most but I am not a leader and am still subject to the laws just as much as you are." I say, rubbing her back to calm her down. "It will take me some time to figure out how to find out where he has gone without arousing any suspicion that there is someone who wants to keep the dragon alive. If anyone finds out I am doing this I could get fired or even thrown in jail." I explain, leaning back to place my hands tenderly on her shoulders. "In the meantime you must have faith he is not dead. He is sure to be wounded and will not go anywhere near civilization, but it is only a matter of time before he has to eat and drink something."

The woman stands still for a few seconds, smiling gratefully at me before leaning into my chest, resting her head beneath my chin. "Thank you Marvin." She says, sniffling while partially putting her arms around me.

"Don't thank me yet. We have a dragon to find first."

**During the next few days, Modern Day June 13-15, 2017: Chattahoochee National forest**

I had no concept of time, just like when I was dead and had nothing to do but to think and ponder. Those bullets hurt more than the pain of when I was being dragged back down or when I was leaving. All the wounds on my body sting in the chill of the night, especially the one on the back of my right foreleg that is lodged near the bone. I had no energy to move, to try and find cover where I could heal and search for food and water. That is the last thought on my mind as I think back to what happened hours ago, of when I arrived in the back of someone's yard, only for her to call the cops and for them to shoot me. The instincts that ran forth and controlled my movements were like drugs; I was intoxicated and could not focus on anything more than the next person who was drunk or had ADHD.

When I knew I was going to have to escape, I let those instincts lead my movements, anticipating what I was going to do before I could think of doing it to try and evade the officers. The face of that woman is all I can see, that somehow, I am suppose to know her. What came to my mind before they started shooting was similar to the warmth that fills my body, of the rush of blood pumping through my veins. A familiar emotion of love and kinship came with the word mother, but when I tried to speak, all I got were bullets heading my way. _Was it the sight of me that spurred them to try and kill me? _

I had escaped, sure, but now I was wounded, facing pain greater than what I had known in my previous life, if that is what I should call it. I guess this is what some people call a revival, a resurrection or even a rebirth. _Hell if I know what I am supposed to do in this life._ All my thoughts are wasted away while I lay on the ground in the middle of a forest, starving, thirsty, and cold. _Do dragons even feel the cold? Or am I still transitioning or getting used to the body of one that already existed? _I bet anyone would want to stick around me long enough to try and answer that question.

If it was not bad enough, it started to rain in the morning when sparse rays of sunlight hit my closed eyelids. I could feel the moisture in the air, the damp and humid temperature as I jerked when it began to downpour, hissing weakly as the raindrops pounded at my wounds and scabs, bringing up the feeling of nausea in the back of my head. It was like I was having nails jabbed into and under my scales, it would not stop. I could not escape even if I wanted to. A steady flow of blood dribbled out of the gunshot wound on the back of my right foreleg while the rest had crusted over some time into the night. The ground underneath became soggy and irritating as the wildlife stayed well clear of me. _My wounds are sure to get infected by how I am going._

My body felt hot, uncomfortable, and once again heavy in the rain. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest, almost as if it wanted to jump out and leave me to die again, but I had sworn to myself I would live on. For whatever reason, I was going to live, even if it had to be in fear, hiding from the race that had once been my friends, my family, and the people who had taught me when I was just a child. Right now, I knew nothing about myself. I had flown on instinct to escape possible death and dissection if I had not been able to get way. I knew not if I could breathe fire like the dragons in fantasy books and I doubted my scales would be of help to me in this time of innovation with guns and rockets and bombs.

My breathing was shallow and strained as the day went by and the rain did not let up, soaking through my scales until I was bone cold. I had not eaten or drunken anything so I was very weak, close to shivering if my body was able to do even that by now. I had woken up once around the middle of the day to see the figure of an animal at the very edge of the forest of the clearing to where I was laying. My vision had been hazy and senses dulled due to the rain and my…broken state. I bet I would have been able to scent what it was if it had not been raining, yet still it continued into the night before stopping.

By then I was sure I was in a comatose state, not hearing anything except for my own breathing and thoughts in my head. I knew because I could not wake up on my own no matter how hard I tried; it was like a repeat of recent events. My whole body felt numb, unresponsive as if I was on the ground in that woman's backyard all over again, yet I knew that to be false because of the side I was laying on and the faint and incessant throbbing of the bullet wound in my foreleg. I knew of nothing around me, of what was going on or whether it was day or night. I did not know what transpired in the world, how far police or the military had progressed in trying to find me, as I knew they would be doing.

My time was spent in an endless sleep, drifting around as forgotten memories blazed across my mind. A few of them stayed around long enough so that I could have a closer look as to what they might be, going through a slideshow of events from my past life. The one that was most prominent was the one of that woman I saw that had poked out beside the officers. I still wondered, _why could I not speak?_ It should have come to me by now that dragons do not have the jaw structure to produce words like a human, yet I kept wondering if I could have done something else to stay there and find out more about that woman.

The second person that I recognized the most or was familiar with besides that woman was the man behind the two police officers that had carried the rifle and had made the wound that bothered me even in this senseless sleep. It came to me that I should definitely know him, as emotions of peril, of guilt and innocents as a boy flashed through my mind the harder I thought about it. I gulped mentally, cursing when I could not figure out why these two were so…clear, so…important that I could not forget about them even in this state. Others of lesser importance or friendship hung around in the background, obscured by the two that would not leave me alone. I could also feel a third, more mysterious figure floating behind them, almost whispering to me of secrets and of the answers I seek. I would have smashed my paws against the ground if I had been able to in frustration, so I just let my anger boil, rising until it either popped or something happened.

It was when I was muttering to myself in delirium inside my mind that everything became quiet around me. I could sense a small presence at the edge of my consciousness, and somehow I knew that a person had found me in these wounds. I calmed my thoughts, or tried to under the assault of pain caused by the bullet wound in my right foreleg, focusing on who it could be, wondering if they would torture me or finish me on the spot. The wait was excruciating, I did not know what they were thinking, where they were or what they looked like. My emotions bubbled up, my despair, my suffering I have went through, the sadness that came from my previous life, but they are silenced as a whisper breaks through the growing thunderstorm.

I know not what was said, only that the person that had found me was talking. My curiosity was peeked the longer I listened, wondering when my time would come. I could hear shuffling now as well as light touches to what I thought to be on my chest or right flank. The small wounds around my body are explored by the stranger, soft hands that caress my hide, trailing over the crusted protrusions and my rough scales. My breathe gets caught in my throat when they reach my foreleg, causing the person to back off as my body jerks once, the pain in my right foreleg flaring momentarily. I wonder if he or she left or is just waiting to see if I am going to wake up. I am surprised when they touch my right foreleg again, intentions either malevolent or curious as I feel them wrap around to the back of my leg. I begin to panic, thinking they are going to grab a hold of the edges of the entry wound and tear me apart to end my life, yet they don't.

They do something similar when the soft hands slow down, roving over the injury, as if looking for something in particular. With a not so gentle squeeze directly on the wound, I lift my neck, roaring out with my eyes closed shut as my body is overcome by thrumming pain. I do not even acknowledge the hasty retreat the person makes away from me, thrashing my hind legs and swinging my tail wildly as the wound reopens, pouring out more of my blood onto the ground and my wing. My vision is clouded and threatens to send me deeper into an unconscious state, but the sudden jolt of pain has the opposite affect and awakens me instead. My breathing increases; stretching my new lungs to their limit while I feel the ground shake from the force of my tail.

For the first few seconds I look like a floundering fish looking for water with my wing trapped beneath me, but as the pain dulls down to a dull throb, I pant heavily on my left flank, maw wide open to try and procure enough oxygen while my tongue hangs out limply. The person wisely does not come forth again, staying at a respective distance to which I can in some reason track in my mind. I rest most of my weight on my left foreleg as my right one still feels numb with the bullet resting inside. My body shakes as I show how weakened I am from not having anything to eat or drink from the time I arrived back on earth to now. The shot of adrenaline that had allowed me to move wears off, just now aiding in reducing the pain in my right foreleg enough for me to think.

My ears twitch when the person who had caused me this pain moves forward slowly. I close my maw, not even remotely having the energy to stand up and chase them off, instead I growl, a pitiful noise that sounds more like a kittens mewl than a proper dragons. The person pauses momentarily, saying a few words that I can't hear. I growl again, deeper this time as my chest scales vibrate while I shake my head in confusion. _Why can't I hear them if I am awake?_ I think to myself. Before I can try and figure out what the reason is, the person approaches again, walking bravely with sureness in their step. I feel that same soft hand on my right foreleg moving towards my wound in the back which is dribbling blood and causing stabbing pain in my mind almost like a bad headache.

I bare my teeth, swinging my head around with my nostrils flaring while just being able to raise my tail to slap it on the ground in warning. The person backs off again, obviously weary of my sharp teeth, but soon comes forth again to place their hands back on my foreleg when I move my head away. I breathe heavily, certainly out of breathe and strength yet they continue, moving to touch the bullet wound once more. I snap, inching my left foreleg across the ground to open my jaws and swivel my head to try and bite their head off to where I think they are. I miss, as the person stumbles and falls back while my jaws are brought down on each other, creating a loud clang which rattles my head far worse than I could have thought.

I whine; lowering my neck to the ground as the person gets up, walking a few steps forward before stopping, not wanting to anger me anymore. _Good, I hope they know that angering an injured dragon should be on the bottom of the things to do list for humans,_ I grumble to myself, whining again as the thought provokes a nasty bout of nausea. My muddled thoughts prevent me from sensing where the person is as I try to fight my way out of the fog, breathing rather steadily for now yet still labored. Just as I am about to check on where they are, they touch me again on my foreleg, and this time I lean to my right, clenching my teeth as the overwhelming pain from the bullet wound nearly makes me pass out. The shell casing scraps against the bone, feeling as if it is in two places as once. My left wing joint strains under the pressure, muscles screaming at me to stop but I keep moving. I shove past it, my need to tell this human to stay away building up like my anger. "Enough!" I roar out, hoping that he gets the message and runs away.

My breathing is definitely labored by now and I feel dizzy as I open my eyes for the first time to see who has been bothering me. I cringe, the sudden bright exposition of colors blinding me into closing my eyes again while looking away growling until it turns into a whine. The pain of my most serious wound is forgotten as I shake my head, trying to get rid of the dancing shapes across my vision and the rigging in my ears before a young voice speaks out.

"Man, you are sure in a bad mood." I stop moving when I hear him, gradually prying my eyes open to stare at the ground in front of me, splattered with my blood.

I close them again, feeling my stomach heave while I lurch forward as I wonder how badly I am injured. I lift my head up and away to the right to avoid seeing what has been done to me. I open my eyes to see a small boy in front of me, probably no older than thirteen, fourteen at the most. I stare at him in disbelief; eyes wide open as my flanks rise and fall while my wound is a distant memory. "Don't like the sight of your own blood I guess, Huh? Happens to me too sometimes." The kid says, making me shake my head and lean back in utter shock. I work my jaw but nothing comes out, completely not expecting a kid, a child! To have found me all the way out in some woods!

"Speechless I see." The kid says again with his arms calmly by his sides, prompting me to say something in return, but what. He is dressed in a dark blue long sleeve shirt with a brown vest like he was out fishing. His face is tan and bright, unblemished by any pimples or facial hair. His stature is small yet lean and tall, his green pants containing many pockets while his hair is a dusty ash gray and swept to the side, the same as his eyes. His shoes are regular kid shoes, plain light blue with decorations all over.

"You're the one…" I stop after opening my maw with no words coming out; instead growls and grunts are all that are heard by the boy in front of me.

"Don't know how to talk?" He says jauntily while raising an eyebrow, almost as a taunt, a strike on my pride and honor.

I narrow my eyes and growl, barring my teeth to remind him of who is the stronger species; even though I am in the horrible shape I am right now. "Ok ok, have it your way. Was just trying to help." He replies, backing off while raising his arms up to show he means no harm.

I cease my growling, huffing as the pain from the bullet wound reminds me of why I am here in this forest. I close my eyes and breathe heavily as another round of nausea comes my way, most likely because I have not had anything to eat in however many days I have been here. The boy walks forward a few steps to see if I am alright, concerned about my well being. "I know you are really hurt right now." He says, stating the obvious. I open my eyes and glance at him sideways, the action making the nausea worse so I close my eyes again and whine.

"And you're probably just making it worse." He continues, crossing his arms and looking down at the ground.

Just like when I was unconscious, I can sense him moving even though my eyes are closed. I raise my head and open my eyes to stare at him, growling menacingly to cause him to stumble and fall on his back as his eyes widen in surprise. "Will you please stop doing that!" He shouts, making me flinch at the volume to my sensitive ears. "My butt will be sore in no time if I keep falling down, mother certainly won't like it." He says, speaking the last part in a whisper that I can still hear as he stands back up, whipping the dirt from his posterior.

"Well maybe if you…" I begin again, opening my maw to say something back but shut it, smacking my tail on the ground in frustration while growling. The spikes on the end of my tail have torn numerous ruts in the ground since the time this kid woke me up rather unceremoniously. The boy looks up at me in curiosity, pausing in his cleaning of his many pocketed pants, remembering I still don't know how to speak.

He stands up straight; arms crossed again as he addresses me firmly. "Why don't you try and think about what you want to say? You know, dragons can speak telepathically?" The boy says almost as if he were one of those stuck up girls who thought of everything she saw as hers.

I still my tail and look back up at him with an annoyed look in return, opening my maw partially to lick my lips, only to insinuate the fact I am extremely thirsty and starving but he probably does not know that, at least not yet. I stare at the boy for a few seconds, causing him to become uncomfortable and shuffle his feet, uncrossing his arms and looking down to avoid my gaze while I come to the realization I should have made some time ago. _So that's the reason I was not able to speak back then,_ I think to myself, huffing before turning away to look at the forest around me.

"_Well, maybe if you stopped trying to hurt me further then I won't have to eat you." _I reply with a small growl, spreading my mind in his direction to try and communicate with him.

He looks back up at me from rubbing his neck with a surprised and confused look on his face, obviously not expecting such a vehement remark. His lips quiver as if he is going to cry but he shakes his head, recovering from my response to give his own. "And this is why dragons have such a bad reputation." He sneers, causing me to turn my head to face him, watching as he clenches his hands into fists and visibly swallows.

We stare at each other for a time, sizing each other up as I think about why he is here and what I am going to do with this very painful bullet wound in my foreleg. _This kid sure has some guts to face up against a dragon. The fact he is in a forest where there are animals that could tear him to pieces earns him some bravery points, but I still want to know what he is doing here. _In the time we mull over our thoughts and figure out what the other is going to say or do, my breathing had at some point returned to normal, for the least bit. My foreleg still throbs in agony, causing an occasional grunt or whine to come from me while my left wing has lost all sensation from being lain on for so long.

Finally, I break the silence, asking the question that has been bothering me since I saw who had found me. _"What are you doing here kid? You know the forest is dangerous." _

He jumps, not expecting me to say something so soon but composes himself in good order. "I am just exploring dragon, and I can handle myself well enough." He replies, walking to his left towards my rear. I follow him all the way, twisting my neck to keep him in my view as his eyes roam my body. "Now I have a question for you, why are you here in the forest with all those wounds you have." The boy asks, stopping to turn and face me, looking me right in the eye.

I stare right back, the pain of the wound in the back of my right foreleg being the most prominent reminder. I swallow, blinking my eyes as a wave of exhaustion rolls over me, causing my breathing to increase as I lower my head and close my eyes. The boy takes one step forward but does not come any closer. "Hey, no passing out on me big guy." He says, snapping his fingers to try and keep me awake. I shake my head while growling, clearing my mind as I open my eyes again to look back at the boy, the moment passing quickly.

"_I am here because I was shot at by cops, which also explains how I got these wounds."_ I respond, eyelids drooping and my breathing heavy as I turn to look at my body. My weariness is forgotten as I see all the cuts the bullets made on my hard scales as well as the dried blood. Those wounds had crusted over some time ago, and while I can still feel them the one that hurts the most is the one with the bullet still lodged in my right bicep. I close my eyes again and lower my head, whining as tears come to my eyes; feeling so lost as to what to do.

The boy in front of me stammers his next question, opening his mouth but still does not approach me. I can sense him thinking of what to say as my stomach decides to give a loud rumble in protest of not having anything to eat in however long I have been out. The boy closes his mouth, making a soft hissing sound like when you accidentally break something valuable or make a loud raucous. His eyes turn to my flanks as he is faintly able to see my ribs through my scales as well as how thin I am.

"How long have you been out here?" He asks, taking a few more steps forward but stops when I open my eyes to look at him.

A vague, almost solemn look resides in my gaze as I stare at him blankly, a tear running down my cheek. _"I don't know, I have been unconscious."_ I reply, turning my head away to rest it on the ground near my left foreleg and stare out into the forest. I spread my hind legs out to try and relieve the cramped feeling in my muscles, grunting as the crusted wounds irritate my scales which only adds to the pain. I shakily bring my right wing higher onto my back, not having the strength to fold it properly. The boy looks at me sadly, most likely thinking of how he can go and call the police or military to dispatch me.

I am surprised this time when he walks up to me, laying his soft hand on my right foreleg as I tower over him even while lying down. I strain to raise my head to look at him, making me breathe slightly faster in my weakened state. He looks back at me with caring eyes, like those I saw from the woman who was with those two officers. "Let me get you something to eat, I will be back shortly." He says, moving to turn away but I lean to my right, clenching my jaw as the bullet wound in my leg sends oceans of pain through my mind. By the time I am sitting respectively, my breathing is labored while I have my maw open, flanks rising up and down rapidly as I try and get my breath.

The boy turns back, worried I will overexert myself and make the wound infected, not that I don't think it is already. "Hey hey, no need for that." He says, putting his hands on my foreleg again to stop me from hurting myself. "You're doing a fine job of hurting yourself without my help dragon."

I growl, causing him to walk backwards quickly to not fall down. I raise my head, opening my eyes as I look down at him with a stern yet pained expression, my tail thumping the ground a few times in defiance. _"I have a name you know, kid."_ I respond slowly, trying to stay in this position even though the effort is more than it's probably worth. Within a few seconds my right foreleg begins to visibly shake under the strain and pain of me putting pressure on it. Before he can say anything it gives out, sliding awkwardly away from my body while my claws tear small lines in the ground as my neck and head fall to the ground, causing me to grunt at the harsh impact. My left foreleg is bent at the discomforting position next to my neck but it is overlaid by the pain caused by the bullet.

The boy approaches hesitantly while bending over to see the bullet wound in my foreleg leaking more blood, though it comes out like mayonnaise this time. He walks up till he is close to my head which is in comparison to how tall he is, crouching down to put his right hand below my closed eye. I can feel his soft palm against my rough scales, his presence calming me down until my breathing is manageable and not hectic. "Well, then tell me. Mine is Jayce Wiswall Pishkin."

My breathing almost stops when I hear his last name, my mind bringing up a hazy picture of two kids outside on a sunny day where one of them sticks something up the others nose. My eyes fly open as I focus on the kid in front of me, the image in my mind becoming more distinct the closer I look at him. I breathe heavily through my nostrils, not exactly hyperventilating but freaked out nonetheless. The same last name comes to me as the kid who had the now identified bug stuck up his nose, and somehow, I feel the one who stuck the bug up his nose is me. I can't seem to grasp how that is possible, but I can at least accept it since I remember coming back down to earth, now stuck in this body of a dragon which is either mine or one I stole.

Jayce stands up, trying to get my attention as my eyes glaze over while more pictures and memories go through my head of my childhood. He looks over at my right foreleg which is spread out wide, shaking his head as he decides I most likely won't like that before looking at my nose with his hands crossed, thinking. Smiling, he walks to my snout, raising his arm high before slapping the sensitive and soft scales with the palm of his hand hard. The sudden strike makes me yip in surprise, jerking my body and lifting my neck without attention to the pain. Falling back down to the position I was in, I pant through my nostrils while growling at Jayce, trailing my tail over the ground in agitation.

"_What the hell was that for!?_ I shout telepathically, causing Jayce to stumble backwards, holding his head while clenching his jaw.

He shakes his head, blinking his eyes before walking up to me like he is going to hit me again but stops just in front. "That, was payback for making me fall on my butt, twice, and also to get you out of whatever trance you were in." Jayce answers, crossing his arms while looking at me with a face like he is about to cry.

"_Sorry,"_ I reply, calming myself until Jayce lowers is arms with a sniff. _"I…your last name reminded me of a kid I once knew when I was younger and…" _I pause, unsure whether to tell him that I was once a human but he beats me to it.

"What made you freeze like that? Were you friends with him?" Jayce asks, walking closer before sitting down in front of my head.

I blink uncertainly, having thought he would have pestered me by now of how I was a dragon, if there were other dragons or if I had been a human. _"I was seeing myself as a human child sticking a bug up his nose."_ I snort before replying, causing his eyes to go wide and me to chuckle, though the effort is rewarded with a growl of pain.

"So, what is your name, you have not told me yet. I have already told you mine." Jayce says, resting his arms on his legs while leaning forward, most definitely interested in that aspect of me.

"_I…uhmm…."_ I hesitate, flicking my tail in indecision. _Now that he has brought up the subject again, it seems I can't remember what my name is,_ I think to myself, stuttering to try and find out what my name was when I was a human. Jayce tilts his head, frowning when I don't immediately say my name in return.

"What's wrong? Don't know what you name is? Or is it your mother did not give you one?" Jayce asks, making me breathe in sharply when he says mother.

That word brings up emotions and images of when I was in that woman's backyard, finding out that I had been sent back down to live a life as a dragon. _It is weird how I can remember those last few moments up, wherever before I came down, while I can't recollect anything from my childhood except brief surges of emotions or pictures when someone says something that sparks my memory. _The word mother brings me back to just before the officers shoot me, when the woman said…when the woman said….

"_D…Da…De" _I try and say what I heard, but now that a few days, or weeks have gone by, even when Jayce says mother I can't remember what that woman said before I had to fly away.

Jayce perks up when I begin to speak, frowning when I keep saying the first letter or two over and over again. "D…what? Is that the start of your name?" Jayce asks, turning his hands palm up at the question.

I stop muttering, blinking and nodding my head on the ground in a yes. _"I just can't seem to remember what it was."_ I say, closing my eyes in frustration while tensing up my left paw to tear more ruts in the ground.

Jayce leans forward to place a hand on the side of my face again but pulls back, bringing it up to his chin to think instead. "How about we call you…Daecyn?" Jayce says, tilting his head to see if I liked it.

I grumble, the pain getting annoying the longer I have to deal with it. Even though I said it was like the time I had the disease, I feel like I am small and cannot do anything despite being a dragon, a creature who is supposed to be strong and endearing. _"mmmm…ok, I suppose that could be my name until I remember."_ I respond, opening my eyes while raising my head a little. _"And I am very much hungry as well as thirsty and somewhat cold."_ I add, sneezing loudly away from Jayce which causes my body to seize up as the pain flares. I growl as my body tenses up, making me clench my teeth until it passes, leaving me with my breathing slightly elevated.

Jayce stands up to place his hands on my head when I put it on the ground, sniffling, feeling that I am indeed burning, but to me my body is on fire compared to the regular warmth. Too much heat can be poisonous to dragons if they don't find a way to cool off soon enough. "How long were you out here?" Jayce asks again, moving his hands all along my head to gauge my temperature.

"_I said I don't know, but I did feel it rained one day. That was horrible."_ I answer, my eyelids drooping until they are closed, completely exhausted from being forcefully woken up with the pain of the bullet ever present. My flanks rise and fall a little erratically as my strength catches up to me to where I don't have the energy to even move anymore.

"That was more than two days ago!" Jayce calls in alarm, placing his hands on my eyelids to try and pry them open. I am barely able to turn my head a few inches away, more tears falling down my cheeks at the realization that I am going to die a beast, alone except for the company of a kid I only met a few minutes ago.

"_Leave me be."_ I mumble, shaking uncontrollably as I cry while I clench my teeth, not wanting to die but I can't dispute the fact I am too weak to move, to get up and find water or food so that I can live on. My oath I made would be for nothing if Jayce had not intervened.

"No!" Jayce shouts, walking over to my right foreleg. My mind is too clouded in sorrow and pain to notice where his presence is, but I am made aware when he places his hands on my foreleg. "I won't let you die!" He pleads, crouching to reach his left hand around my bicep to hover over my wound, threatening to hurt me again. I scrap my chin on the ground and open my eyes to watch him as tears roll down my cheeks, glistening in the sun.

"_You'll only give me more agony if you do that while I die." _I reply with no spark in my voice where there was before. Tears start to come to Jayce's eyes as well while his hand trembles over my wound, his right hand resting lightly on the other side for support. I smile weakly, knowing he did not have the will to inflict more pain on me while I was awake. _"I knew you couldn't do it."_ I say softly before closing my eyes to wait for my time.

"No! It's not true!" Jayce screams, making me growl at the pitch which is sensitive to my ears, causing them to press against my head. His face scrunches up as he begins to cry and his nose starts to drip mucus, pulling his arms away from my foreleg while he looks at my head, clenching his hands into fists at his side. "My mom can help you. She can save you!" Jayce shouts desperately, trying to get me to fight, to give me some hope to live.

"_It won't do any good as your mom could be far away. I doubt she would let you out of her sight that easily," _I say tiredly, opening my eye halfway._ "Besides, I have already experienced this kind of pain once in my previous life; I can weather it again if I have too." _I explain, breathing shallow as I don't have the strength or will to continue.

Jayce shakes his head in denial and frustration, shouting back at me louder to get his point across. "You don't understand!" He yells, making me growl again, closing my eyes and baring my teeth but he pays no attention to that as I press my ears back against my head again. "She is close by in this forest! We live here. My mom is only a mile or two that way." Jayce says with his shoulders raised, right arm pointing in the direction I was originally going in before I landed, more liked crashed.

I slowly open my eye to see where he is pointing; tilting my head to look over at the direction he said his mom is in with my other eye. _"I would not be able to make it anyway."_ I reply, huffing at the brief glimmer of hope. _Was it fun for him to mock me, to give me something to look for only to realize I am not strong enough? Like it is some kind of game?_

"She knew your father!" Jayce shouts in a last ditch effort to get me up and moving, lowering his right arm as his body shakes while he cries, trying to control it but failing as he was just a kid.

At the mention of that word, my eyes fly open and I turn my head to stare at Jayce in disbelief, not even flinching from how loud he yelled. All the pain in my body is forgotten in an instant, my only concern is how he knows my dad was human even as that hazy, mysterious figure behind the two others glows brighter for a moment. My eyes glaze over again as pictures and short films run through my mind, showing me as a baby held in the grasp of a male, who I guess is my father. Strong emotions of love and protection flow through me, blocking out the attempts from Jayce to bring me back. I can also sense the woman near him, leaning down to pick me up before going to kiss him with me in her arms. The closer they get, the clearer their faces are, until I can almost remember who they are, but Jayce unfortunately punches my bicep that still has the bullet fragment inside. While not directly striking the wound, he caused the bullet to shift against the bone and muscle tissue, causing further damage.

Ripped away from the memories, I roar out loud with my head raised as my tail slaps the ground repeatedly, tearing up the ground even more while adrenaline courses through my veins as I temporarily regain my strength and energy to move. _"Why did you!?"_ I shout telepathically to Jayce, only to stop when I see him clutching his right hand while rolling on the ground, moving his other hand to his ear to try and block out my booming voice. _"Jayce!"_ I say softer, concerned as to what he did, but from the amount of pain I experienced, I would suspect he punched me in my foreleg.

"I'm fine, totally fine!" He replies in a pitched and trembling voice, no doubt with tears in his eyes, eventually getting up while scrabbling to stand and face me as he still holds his injured hand delicately. I can see lines of blood covering both his hands even has he tries to hide it, his green pants dirty as well as the side and back of his jacket but he pays no attention to them. "Did anything come to you?" He asks, raising his left arm to try and wipe the tears away while sniffling.

I shake my head, clearing my mind, feeling just like I was when I woke up in that woman's back yard a few days ago. My hunger, thirst and pain are ignored as I question Jayce on what he knows. _"How does she know my father! How do you know I was human…that…"_

"You died?" Jayce finishes, watching as I breathe heavily with my maw open, flanks rising and falling rapidly but steadily, glad that something stoked the fire inside me to live. "I'm guessing that kid that you stuck a bug up his nose had a last name of Pishkin?"

"_Ho…yes. But how do you know that? I did not tell you?"_ I reply, totally forgetting that I was just about to lie down and let myself die when I had sworn to myself I would fight and live on even if it was as a dragon. _And now I want to find out why I am living again but as a dragon._

Jayce chuckles, wincing as the sting from punching my hard scales gets to him. "I'm ok, I had to have some way to get you out of your daydream when slapping your snout would not work," Jayce explained when I asked him if he felt alright. "And I know because that person is my big brother." He replies, grinning when I lean my head back as my eyes go wide in complete surprise.

"_But that, but that does not explain how your mother knows…"_

"I would tell you, but I am not the best at explaining things. And I don't know the whole story either, so if you want to know the answers to your questions, get up and follow me." Jayce responds while interrupting me, turning partially to walk a few steps towards my head with his injured hand clutched to his chest. "Our home is near a small lake in this forest, you can have a drink there and my mom can get you something to eat, as much as you want." Jayce says, walking around my head to begin walking home.

"_Wait! You aren't going to leave me? I don't know if I can get up, I have a bullet inside the wound that you so graciously punched and prodded earlier on to wake me up." _I say, twisting my neck as my tail moves a few inches to face him head on as he turns around.

"You want answers yes?" Jayce says while I watch the blood from his injured knuckle soak down his arm to stain his shirt. I flick out my tongue and take a deep whiff, scenting the coppery blood so close it reminds me of my need for food. Jayce shouts once to get my attention back in which I nod eagerly. "Then stand up. I am sure a big, ferocious dragon like you can withstand the pain for a short trek to my home," Jayce says, turning around before stopping to say one more thing. "And I am really sorry that you had that disease, you did not deserve it." He adds in a downtrodden tone.

That last part leaves me bewildered beyond my wildest dreams as Jayce starts walking slowly to the edge of the clearing, leaving me very wounded on the ground. I huff out and I see him smile, looking back to see what I am doing. I turn to look at my body and foreleg, even though I can't see the entry point I can feel the bullet grinding against my bone, shredding my muscle apart with every move I make. _I will be lucky if I can still use my right leg when all this is done,_ I mutter to myself, taking a few deep breathes to prepare for the oncoming barrage of pain that is most likely to come once I start moving. _All I need to do is focus on one thing, bite back the pain._

I close my eyes one more time before heaving; leaning to the right as the bullet practically creates sparks against my bone immediately, bringing unimaginable pain to my mind. My left wing is still beneath me while I bring my hind legs closer to my body to try and stand up, doing exactly what I did a few days ago to stand up for the first time as a dragon. I move my tail to help me balance, raising my right wing out of the way while trying to tug my left wing out from beneath me. I bare my teeth in a continuous growl as the pain that assaults my mind grows, the scabs on my flanks and hind legs cracking to further what I already feel. I lean left and then right to rock myself onto my legs. The tactic works but I roar out loudly as the pain is excruciating. With wobbly legs, I quickly raise my right leg off the ground, bending my left leg in exhaustion from just trying to stand up while my tail swishes back and forth to keep me in line.

My left wing is also free but remains limp, the edge trailing on the ground, most likely dislocated from when I crashed onto the ground. The leather that helps me fly is also torn and looks like a ragged banner that had been burned then put out which has only made the previous holes in it bigger, leaving me with barely any surface area to catch the wind. _So much for flying anytime soon,_ I think as I turn to inspect my left wing, nudging it before looking at my other wing. My right wing did not suffer any more rips or tears but still has the bullet holes from before which have stopped bleeding long ago. Since I also do not know how to move my wings very well, only with remnant knowledge of what it felt like when I was flying, all I can do is fold it half way against my body for now. My other insignificant injuries are now bleeding again, dripping blood down my scales and flanks which in turn pools or hardens in streams, making them itch even more over my body

Jayce on the other hand had turned around when I had roared out with a large smile on his face despite his own injury. "I knew you could do it." He says, congratulating me for standing up after I doubted myself many times before.

My breathing is controlled but heavy as I turn to look at him, hopping on three legs while growling deep in my throat, making him shrink back in fear of what I will do. _"Make me do that again without any help and I 'will' eat you alive."_ I reply, body shaking as the effects of the adrenaline begins to wear off slowly. My tail flicks from side to side, brushing against the soft grass below as I breathe through my nostrils.

"Ah hahaha, ok, I know you're joking, won't happen next time, promise." Jayce says, backing up until his back is up against a tree with a frightened look on his face as he sees me head his way.

I plod forward at my own pace, huffing with every step and wincing when every jarring movement sends renewed pain up my spine while my tail corrects for my balance. _Left hind leg, left foreleg, right hind leg, repeat, _I chant to myself to how I walk. The collection of pain does not help but my concentration to get to Jayce allows me to ignore it for awhile as he starts looking side to side, looking for somewhere to escape but wisely stays where he is. _He thinks I am going to hurt him,_ I chuckle to myself, watching him clutch his bloody fist close to his chest as a few tears roll down his face.

I stop a few feet before I reach him, making him look up to me. If adults were up to my shoulders, then Jaycen is a little lower than my elbows. I crouch down as best I can while hugging my right foreleg to my chest with my paw curled in, cringing as my other wounds on my hind legs and flank start bothering me as well. I look at him with no expression or intention of injury, only forgiveness. _"Come here Jayce,"_ I say, lowering my neck so I could look at him in the eyes on his level. I brush my consciousness over his mind, telling him with emotions that I will not harm him. Jayce walks towards me after, regaining his old confidence until he is in front of my snout. _"Open your hand."_ I request.

He looks down at his bloodied fist and slowly uncovers it for me to see the white of his knuckles. He closes his eyes, tears coming down his face as I wonder how hard he hit me while he clenches his left hand into a tight fist by his side. I lean forward, opening my maw and extend my tongue to gently run it over his wound. He snaps open his eyes, jumping back and yelling at the sudden flare of pain.

"OW owowow! Why did you do that?" Jayce sobs, holding his fist again with his other hand while gritting his teeth under the pain.

"_I thought that dragon saliva would have a healing property, or something along the lines. Besides, you don't want it to get infected?" _I explain, motioning to my right foreleg with my head.

Jayce gulps hard then nods, walking forth again to hold out his right arm, his fingers constantly twitching in a half fist as he bites his lips to try and keep himself from crying out. I extend my tongue again to slowly lick across the wound, hearing muffled shouts from Jayce as he digs his fingernails from his left hand into his palm. I look straight into his eyes even after he closes them tight as he grits his teeth together hard enough for them to threaten to crack under the pressure. _"Jayce, look at me."_ I say, repeating the command when he shakes his head, watching his body shake.

"_Jayce, how old are you."_ I ask him, saying it again while lapping up the blood and lathering his knuckle in my saliva. The coppery taste of his blood gets my instincts to tell me to look for food, but I suppress them, trying to help my friend instead. _Food can come later,_ I remind myself. _"Jayce, the more you concentrate on me, the less you will feel the pain. Jayce, how old are you." _I say nice and steadily, hoping he will not faint from the shock.

Gradually, he opens his now bloodied lips and speaks. "Tw…Twelve." He replies, loosening the tension in his left fist a little. My eyes go wide as I did not expect him to be this young, yet I was close.

"_Do you have any friends?"_ I ask next, making sure to thoroughly coat his hand in my saliva. Whether it did something for him or not remains to be seen.

"A…a few." Jayce replies, breathing deeply as he his eyes twitch.

"_Can you tell me their names?"_ I say, moving my tail across the grass slowly to distract myself from the growing pain caused by my own wound, the sensitive tip being stimulated like a gentle messahe.

"M…Mariah, J-José…uhm…George…and…uhh…Timmy." Jayce answers, finally opening his tear stained eyes to look at me.

"_Good,"_ I reply, leaning back once I lick a few more times. He partially covers it up with his left hand again, afraid to touch it. _"Does it hurt still?"_ I ask; standing up again, ready to go to his home.

He shakes his head, trembling slightly while looking at the ground in front of me. "Not as much as it did right after I punched you." He answers in a soft, shy voice.

"_Are you ok to lead me to your home?"_ I ask, unknowingly insulting him.

"Are you kidding, of course I can handle this, I had more cuts and scrapes than you probably ever did." Jayce shouts back, walking forward while making me step back, or hop backwards on three legs. "Yes, I can take you; we can surely make it before noon." He adds a little more subdued, but turns around and begins walking into the forest.

One thought enters my mind before I follow; _What if I am too large to make it past the trees?_ I think, looking blankly after Jayce as he looks back to see my expression going between the trees.

He sighs and shakes his head before shouting at me. "Come on! Don't worry about the trees. Ever believed in magic?" Jayce says before turning around and continuing his journey to his home with or without me. I open my maw, tilting my head before hopping forward after him.

My nervousness becomes palpable as I get closer to the trees, but they seem to stretch and bend as I follow Jayce, allowing me to pass through without any problem. They also block the sun, giving me some relief from the warmth and humidity of the day. _This feels like a nightmare forest, only its light outside and a kid is leading me to his home…hahaha, yeah, not scary at all, _I think to myself, huffing as I make my way through the forest. My thoughts wonder as Jayce walks a few feet in front of me, first starting with everything that has been bothering me since I came back to earth. My hunger and thirst are persistent reminders along with the pain that I am very much alive as much as Jayce is.

"_Why did you say my mother did not give me a name when you know that my parents are human?" _I ask after walking for a few minutes in silence. Jayce jumps at my voice but looks back calmly to address my question.

"What do you mean?" Jayce asks innocently, looking back to focus on walking and holding his right hand protectively against his chest.

I take a few moments to collect my thoughts into what I want to know. _"You said if I did not know what my name is, then said if my mother did not give me one with the implication that dragons do not name their hatchlings as they don't have any need for names."_ I answer, grunting whenever I have to step over a branch that rises out of the ground. The scabs that had partially reopened and oozed blood scratches discomfortingly against my scales which only adds to the pain. Not to mention my left wing which is trailing on the ground, limp and most likely dislocated.

"Because I did not want to overwhelm you that I knew you were a human too. Once." Jayce replies, walking steadily through the forest to his home, oddly calm after having skinned his knuckles against dragon scales.

I shake my head at what he says, puffing out some smoke before sneezing, still feeling that my body is on fire and my senses are messed up. My hearing and sight are ok but I feel like throwing up even though I have not eaten anything. _"Yet you said your mom knew my father, which means you know he is dead and also that I died. How?" _I ask, my right hind leg tripping over an upturned root which sends more pain up my spine when I have to take an extra step with my left foreleg to prevent myself from falling. I growl, shaking it before placing it down, wincing when it feels tense and somewhat sprained with a few missing scales, not that that part matters right now.

Jayce stops to look back at me, concerned with how I am doing before answering. "As I said before, my mom would be best to tell you what you want to know." He looks at me as I watch him in return, waiting. "But if you really want to know that, yes, my mom did know your father, she was a good friend of his before he passed away. My mom then kept tabs on your mom as well as you until you died. Going with what I said before, my mom told me about your dad since I had not been born at that time." Jayce says turning around to continue walking.

I look at his back while he walks away, stunned as to what he told me. _So much information, maybe, maybe I should just keep quiet until I meet his mom. So many mysteries I want to solve,_ I ponder, a headache forming on top of my hunger, thirst, and the pain from the bullet wound, not to mention the incessant itching caused by all the dried scabs on my hind legs and flanks along with some bullets wedged just under my scales in my hind legs. I shake my head, hopping forward again, wincing every time I lay my right hind leg down or put too much weight on it while holding my right foreleg next to my chest just like Jayce. We trudge on the rest of the way in silence, Jayce holding his spit covered knuckles while I begin to breathe heavily at the effort to continue, the adrenaline having worn off shortly after we started our foray into the forest. My flanks rise and fall rapidly, stretching across my ribs as I open my maw, trying to keep going.

Every so often I close my maw and breathe deeply through my nostrils, getting a nice scent of the forest around me with my head raised high. My mind begins to show me flashes of pictures of when I was a little kid and stared at anything that moved, be it spiders, bees, ants or caterpillars. The smells of the forest also brings me back to the time when I was lying in my bed with the incurable disease, slowly dying while my mother brought me bugs to look at and the occasional tree bark. The scents calm me even as the bullet wound causes me never ending pain, reminding me more of the pain the disease brought me. A single tear rolls down my cheek but I shake my head when Jayce calls out to me.

"Hey Daecyn, you ok?" Jacye asks, looking back while walking to see what has kept me quiet for the most part after my first set of questions.

"_Huh,"_ I reply, raising my head that I did not know I had lowered to get a deeper whiff of the forest around me, of the musk and earthy tang Mother Nature brings. _"Oh…yeah. I am alright, besides the constant assault of pain from the bullet wound and the hunger gnawing at my stomach and my dry throat, I'm fine…just fine."_ I respond rather mallow.

He frowns at the playback of words he said when on the ground, holding his pleading knuckles but says nothing about it. "Hey, you don't want to die on me again do you?" Jayce asks in a stern and serious voice, making me almost choke and stumble. "Because I will punch your wound again if you do that."

"_No! nonono!" _I reply hastily while shaking my head, making myself nauseas and growling in disdain for doing so. _"I was just thinking…The scent of the forest reminds me of my other life, of when I was interested in nature, in bugs and wildlife, that I still am even as a dragon."_ I say, looking around to hear the distant calls of animals and birds among the trees. The bright sunlight streaming through the warped trees and the vivid colors that I can see with my draconic eyes impresses me since I was not able to take the liberty to sight see while fleeing for my life a few days earlier. Everything I experience is in a new body, in a new light where I could discover so many more things, but it will have to wait until I am healed and my senses are restored to what they should be. _And I still don't know where the heck I am, _I mutter to myself, bringing my attention back to the conversation.

"I bet that also brings up memories of your mother too?" Jayce says, causing more emotional pain for me.

I huff as I bring down my left foreleg harder than necessary as I am rewarded with a flash of intense pain which makes me growl instinctively. _"Yes, and…of the disease."_ I reply solemnly, making Jayce cringe at my sad tone as the memories gradual fade away.

"Sorry, I did not mean to cause you any more grief, or pain than you are already in." Jayce says apologetically.

"_No harm done, not like I can remember much of my other life very much except for a few figures that stand out more than others but are still hazy."_ I respond as Jayce looks back at me with a sympathetic expression.

"I probably would hate to have that feeling," Jayce says calmly. "Who do you remember?" He asks after a minute or two of silent walking and thinking.

I look up from staring at the ground to watch Jayce, having lowered my head while plodding and/or hopping along, whichever you prefer. _"Mostly my mother, or who I think is my mother, though I don't know or remember her name. And a guy beside her…the same one that shot me when I was flying away and gave me this painful wound,"_ I pause, clenching my teeth as my mind automatically brings me back to the time when that woman appeared next to those officers. Of the pain they caused me when they started shooting before I could flee, but it was nothing like what the bullet wound causes, is, nothing like what the bullet wound causes. _"And I see a mysterious man behind those two, who I think is my father, because when you said his name, that figure began to glow brighter and images began flowing through my head, but now it is dull."_ I explain, feeling a light breeze blow through the trees, caressing over my torn wings and swishing tail, ragged scales and injured leg. It makes me want to stop and peel the dried blood off of me; it starts to drive me mad before it eventually fades.

"So that's why you kept spacing out whenever I said a name or word that corresponds to your old life?" Jayce replies, slowing down to walk beside me with a skip in his step to my left, still holding his saliva coated knuckles with care up against his chest.

"_I guess so…How much longer until we arrive at your house. I don't know how much longer I can walk, or hop."_ I ask, desperately hoping that I could rest soon enough and get something to eat and drink. My breathing has become labored and the pain even worse than before. I still feel the chill of the water that seeped through my scales and onto the sensitive skin beneath, leaving me shivering in the shade of the trees even as Jayce smiles widely with a quick, childish giggle.

"Not much, it's just over there." Jayce replies, extending both his connected arms to point with his left ring finger at an opening in the forest.

I give a big mental sigh of relief that soon I will be able to lie down and get some rest, to get something to eat and drink and have my wounds tended t-… _"Do you know where the cops are? Or military?"_ I ask after I start to sweat or feel like I am sweating which causes my scabs to itch even more, further making me jittery and uneasy. _"I don't want you to…" _I start but Jayce shushes me, surprising me again for his courage to talk back to me, a dragon in such a way.

"You are safe here. Ancient magic protects this forest, they will have to find us by accident and get through my mother before they can have you." He responds, tilting his head back at me with a wide smile and those gray eyes. "And I know what you are thinking, no, I did not or have not or will not call them to tell you I have found you." Jayce answers reassuringly.

I huff out in relief, snapping open my eyes when I feel I am about to trip and decide to stop as Jayce turns back to see what I am doing, also stopping in his tracks. I breathe heavily with my maw open for a few minutes with my eyes closed to regain my breath from the long walk, leaning most of my weight on my left foreleg while keeping my right hind leg off the ground. My flanks rise and fall as I calm my mind, breathing in slowly to get myself under control while my wings are ruffled by another breeze. My tail droops low to the ground as well as my wings in my exhaustion, making Jayce step towards me, worried that I might have stopped because I can't go on anymore and have resigned to die again. My left wing is feeling numb while trailing on the ground, collecting dirt while the rays of sunlight that pass through the tree tops shine through the ragged wholes of my wing and onto the ground.

"_Thank you,"_ I say, opening my eyes while startling Jayce into stopping, closing my maw and raising my neck in confidence. _"Ever since I woke up like…this, I have not known what I am supposed to do or why I was sent back as a dragon,"_ I nod my head in gratitude, to which Jayce nods his head in return, smile reappearing on his face.

"My mother and I will do anything to help you remember or find out and answer any questions you have," Jayce replies, both of us momentarily forgetting our pains. "Even if you do not trust us completely, you are free to leave whenever you want. Though, I may not be as much use when answering your questions." He adds as an afterthought, earning a chuckle from me but I growl and bend forward as the pain from the bullet wound reminds me of my predicament.

"_Then what are we waiting forward, bring me to your home so your mother can hopefully get this damn bullet out of me and I can get some rest."_ I respond once the pain dulls down but does not vanish, as it has before, ever there, ever present. After speaking, I begin hopping forward again, determination now etched into my eyes, replacing the weak and chaotic mindset I had before Jayce found me.

He watches me in my unique gait as I hop towards the edge of the forest. Jayce follows a few seconds later, jogging until he is forty five degrees to my left with a happy skip in his step. I watch him as we walk into the bright sunlight again, the fiery ball above nearing the height of its climb. I close my eyes and bare my teeth at the blinding light while pulling my neck back into an S, stopping to let myself get accustomed to the brilliance. Jayce also shakes his head, wincing as he brushes up against his wound while blood slowly begins to seep back out. Once that ordeal is done, I open my eyes with faint shapes still buzzing around the edges of my vision to see a house covered in flowers, vines, grass and…just nature in general!

"_That's, your house?"_ I ask, astonished that a twelve year old would be living with his mother in a forest that I have no idea where on earth, even if the city I was in with that woman was vaguely familiar.

"Yep," Jayce says, continuing to walk towards the stunning building, making me have to hop faster to catch up. Through all the growls and grunts that I make because of the pain in my mind, the beauty, the, just oneness with nature around the house and the intricate designs weaved is enough to spark some recognition in my mind but only for a second. "I am sure you will like it since you have a thing for nature as well. You will also surely like my mother, she will definitely help you remove that bullet and patch you up." He replies, setting us off on a short walk to the house which is backed by a large, rather stunning view of a lake behind it with the sun high in the sky.

My jaw hangs open while my eyes are wide to take in every detail, every stunning feature of the landscape around me. I had not had the chance to observe what I was into, what I liked when I woke up because of the officers and the chaos the followed. Now that I have a chance to slow down and just observe what is around me, I feel like a kid again, a human kid before the disease had started ravaging my body. Jayce looks back at me, smiling as he sees me taking in all the sights and smells that nature holds.

The sun creates a dazzling sparkle effect on the lake from the shore near us to as far as I can see while the trees seem old and sweet, swaying gently in the wind. They rock to the breeze without opposing it, going with the flow. The grass is much more vivid now than I remember, _maybe because it is my new eyesight? _The scents are exquisite, unique and, muskier as well as carrying a depth with more meaning than I could possibly comprehend, something that bares the significance of the earth, of life. The flowers along our path almost bow as I walk past them, the bushes shaking in fear, the air, pure and unpolluted.

I look up from my ruminations to again see the building, the house, the home belonging to Jayce and his mother that is wrapped in vines, colored with oak and dashed with flowers. I can see the entrance easily enough where some flowers hang around the doorframe in welcome. To the right is what I take to be a large room with good sized windows and vines that cling to the wooden walls. The path Jayce is leading me on heads straight for the house which is caved in by the lake behind it in a V. The environment the house was built in seems to be made for it, as if it was meant to be here.

Jayce brings me to the front door, telling me to stop about a dozen feet from the entrance where he walks forward a few more steps to call out to someone, most likely his mother. "Mom! I am home!" He shouts, rising up on his toes for emphasis to his words.

A voice responds close by, either inside the house or in the surrounding area. "I will be there in a minute honey!" The rich feminine reply comes a few seconds later.

Jayce looks around to try and figure out where his mother is, stilling holding his injured hand against his chest before calling out to her again. "Mom! I am in the front! I brought someone that I think you might want to see!" He shouts again while I flick my tail anxiously.

"Who is it?" She answers back, her accent close to the officers who shot me with the rifle. As Jayce speaks again, I look around; tail swishing over the grass, a little nervous as to how he is going to introduce me without fear of another woman screaming at the sight of seeing me, a terrifying dragon in front of her home. _Not that I will know what to do after what happened with the first encounter,_ I think to myself, watching the tall trees flow in the wind.

"I found a dragon in the forest and he is really badly hurt. I need you to help him mom!" He shouts again, just giving away the fact that a dragon is indeed in front of her home next to her son where he or I could hop forward a few more steps and eat him up, yet she does not sound fazed, more, interested.

The reply comes a few moments later a lot closer than before and more clearly defined as she appears from the left side of the house where I had thought she might be somewhere inside. "Is that so? A dragon you say, and how did you come upon him? You know there are only a handful of dragons left in…oh? Oh!" The mother says upon seeing me, dropping her hands to her sides from being crossed under her chest as she says it again in surprise.

I turn to look at her, fearing the worst that could happen, not really having listened to what she said except when she stopped talking at the sight of me. My eyes widen and my tail stills on the ground as I look upon her figure which reminds me of that woman I saw in the back yard. My ears rise up in caution, my left one nicking against the crack where the first bullet missed me and cracked the underside of my horns. My breathing slows down, pain, thirst, and hunger forgotten as the way she is dressed looks like the spitting image of that woman in the backyard, wearing dazzling clothing that compliments her surroundings before other pictures and emotions build up inside me.

It is like I am reliving the time of my old life, my eyes glaze over and I see my mother next to me, telling me jokes even though I can't talk. I can smell the scent of nature in my room, the colorful images and paintings on my walls with my draconic senses. Then I see her next to a charming man who has his arms around her back as the landscape is that of the Grand Canyon and they are sitting down on a bench, both apparently young. The woman has elegant clothing, provided by the man beside her in an extravagant lifestyle. The image moves on to a graveyard with the woman in all black standing over a tall grave marker with the name of someone she knew but it is blurred to me.

It passes by too quickly for me to pay any attention as it goes back to another picture of me as a human child, as a baby outside in the sun on my mother's lap with a smile on her face. In the background there is a house that is too hard to get the exact details as I focus on what the woman is doing. She appears to be talking to the baby, to me, kissing my head before picking me up as I smile happily. Just as another memory starts to come; it fades, leaving me staring at the woman, the mother of Jayce. _She looks…so much like, that woman. Why does she, seem too familiar yet…_ My thoughts are scrambled the longer I look at her, trying to remember what I saw when I spaced out. Jayce is trying to get my attention as the woman speaks to him some more but I pay no mind. _She almost looks like my mother…except…younger, more…vibrant…_


End file.
